Untouchable: A Destiel Fanfiction
by Hoes
Summary: In an alt universe Dean is a wallflower: unpopular, unconfident and lost in the stress of his life. On the other end of the spectrum lies the Siaev brothers: Lucifer, Michael and the eldest, Castiel. [dean x cas, supernatural, destiel.]
1. Chapter 1- Nightfall

Chapter 1- Nightfall

"Hey, bud, get off the couch or we're going to be late!" Sam Winchester yelled half heartedly, staring at his reflection in the full length mirror inside the little apartment he and his brother, Dean rented on Manhattan. He tugged the free strands of his medium lengthed brown hair behind his ears and tamed it with a layer of gel. _Not bad._ He smirked at himself, smoothing down the sides of his tuxedo and quickly adjusting the maroon tie, contrasting with the white dress shirt like a patch of blood on the snow. His long thin fingers traced along the silky material as he sighed cheerfully. _Lookin' sharp_. He thought.

In the background a loud thud echoed from the living room, followed by a muffled grunt and a quiet "shit".

"Sam, care to pass me some paper towels? Kinda knocked over my drink by accident." Dean asked quietly, clearly in distress as he unwillingly paused the documentary narrated by David Attenborough on Netflix. Sam never understood how documentaries are intriguing. Sure, you do learn stuff visually but it's not nearly as efficient as just memorizing textbooks as he'd done in college but it's better to have dean watching something than mindlessly writing in that dirty, old leather covered diary/notpad of his. God knows what kinda things he writes. Pinching the dirty washcloth between his fingertips he tossed it at Dean who caught it without having to look.

"Thanks bro." he muttered. Dean bent down to wipe the spilled Coke from the floorboards, his wrinkled dress shirt only half buttoned and hair messy from being on the couch for too long. Some people can rock the messy hair look, but just not him.

"Any time, Dean." His brother replied, humming under his breath. "You better hurry up though, there's only 10 minutes before Jess and Lisa come in the liiiiiiimo!"

"Be right there." Dean stood up shakily, floor still sticky from the mishap but a look of restlessness surfaced on Dean's face. "Do I really need to go?" He said, brows furrowed together as he slang the blazer over his broad shoulders and buttoning up the rest of his shirt. His hair finally decided to cooperate after he ran his hands continuously through his short brown hair; eyes unconfidently scanning his reflection through the mirror. Honestly, Dean Winchester is a lot of things, but "unattractive" certainly isn't one of them. His green eyes sparks under the sun and his solid build far away from the flabby arms of the people he hang out with at school. If he ever goes to a bar—which is definitely a rare occasion; There _will_ be girls smiling flirtatiously at him or leave their number on receipts, hoping to get a call later on. But something about the idea of one night stands or hook ups just doesn't click with him, it's not his thing. The last time he's been in a long term relationship was with this girl named Jo: blonde, petit, pretty. They've known each other since forever because their uncle Bobby is very close with Jo's mom, ellen; who works in a bar just off in Brooklyn. But you know, things happen. Especially if the girl is beautiful and the guy is, well, not-that-popular. This dude named Balthazar took her from—

His train of thoughts and memories were interrupted by the loud ringtone of Sam's iPhone 6+, snapping him into reality instead of the sad trance of the one and only time he actually fell for someone. "Hey Babe…You're under the building already? okay we'll be down in 5… what? No parking? Okay then give us two minutes. Bye." Locking his phone, Sam looked at Dean, who's busy stuffing his feet into the polished dress shoes, a constipated look on his face.

"C'mon! lighten up!" Sam cheered, patting him solidly on the back and squeezes. "Last night you were just telling me how excited you were, don't chicken out, it's just an end of the year party. You deserve it, making through the finals without dying, amirite?" he winked.

"Yes, yes, you're definitely correct." Dean added, loosening up a bit. After all, the junior year of University has been rough especially with the terribly strict professors he had. Maybe it's time to drink and forget about everything, maybe it's the only chance to win Jo back from that dick Balthazar. Together, the brothers walked down the flight of dirty stairs and found a shiny black limo waiting for them. The silhouette of two heads could be seen through the sunset: Jessica and Lisa. A smile cracked on Dean's face when the limo's door slid open with a graceful _swoosh_ , revealing the girls sitting there relaxed with the short party dresses and a little bit too much make up.

"Wow, lookin' good boys!" Jessica complimented as she opened her arms, a beer in hand for a hug. Sam went in first, straight into her arms and gave her a little kiss on the side of her soft cheeks. Aren't they the sweetest couple ever, the majority of the school thinks so. Dean followed directly, squeezing into the rather small space of the limo, sitting next to his best friend: Lisa. Although the ceiling is a bit too low (god knows how Sam managed to even sit comfortably with his tall figure) and Lisa's perfume a little bit too string but he shouldn't be picky since it's ready such a good opportunity for him to be out here mingling instead of watching documentaries. Lisa leaned against him, smelling like cherry blossoms and hair tumbling down her shoulder onto Dean's tux. He's used to it by this point, their friendship (strictly) is a bit touchy than other ones but it is exactly that fact that makes sharing inappropriate jokes so much easier as compared to awkward judgment.

"My pretty boy are you hyped up for this party or not?" Lisa asked, smiling up at him, brown eyes sparkling with excitement. "I'm looking forward to bagging some serious hotties, _man._ Been too busy studying and missing that nice feeling of some accompany." She added, winking at Dean whose mood had lifted dramatically; partially because of Taylor Swift's 'Welcome to New York" playing in the background.

"Aren't you a little hoe." Dean teased back, making a face.

"Ohohoh, guess what!" She suddenly blurted out then taken aback because Sam and Jess, who has been making out in the back was startled and broke off mid-kiss. Lisa's tan skin flushed with embarrassment as she lowered her voice.

Dean chuckled, a tilted smile forming on his face "let's hear it since it's so important." Leaning back, he tapped Sam and everyone in the limo turned their attention to Lisa. "well?"

Lisa fumbled with the lace edge of her dress, clearly wasn't expecting so much attention but soon regained her confidence. " _they_ 're going to be there tonight." She announced.

Befuddled, Sam cocked his head and exchanged look with Jess, who just shrugged. "Who?"

Slumping back in disbelief, Lisa continued "The Siaev brothers and Balthazar, of course. Aka the 'goals squad'" she explained. Dean glowered at Balthazar's name but Jessica suddenly seemed amused, her blond hair glowing in the sunlight.

"And?"

"And haven't you heard? Lucifer and Michael are both single!" Lisa finished, a wide smile stretching from ear to ear, perfect white teeth gleaming. Dean, like everyone else, has definitely heard of the brothers and "the dick". They're simply the celebrities on campus: looks, grades, talents—they've got it all. Winning championships one by one they're even in the cover photo of their school's Facebook page, which more people have decided to like it because of them instead of the school itself. Lucifer and Michael are twins but they look completely different. Mike is blonde with blue eyes, medium built while Lucifer is ginger with piercing hazel eyes that can hook you with one glance. Dean doesn't blame the girls for going head over heels for the guys because they're pretty attractive to him too, no homo though. Balthazar on the other hand, is much more plain. He's got charms though, which was part of what lured Jo away from him. Balth has dirty blonde hair and a rugged, mature look on his face. His v-necked t-shirts always showing a bit of his curly chest hair: he didn't seem to mind.

"Which one are you aiming for then?" Jess asked as Sam looked at her admiringly, playing with one of her loose strand of hair. Ugh, girl talks. It is as if they can go on forever talking about guys… it's pretty fascinating. But something was missing.

" I'm right now leaning toward Michael, to be honest. Lucifer is a bit too tall for me." She pouted and used her hand to illustrate just how short she is but then quickly adding, "but of course any of them is good, there's no choosing. A threesome is preferred, heh."

Dean rolled his eyes but he knows there was something of with the Siaev brothers… maybe there's someone missing? Yeah that might be it. "Hey y'all, aren't there three brothers? Who's the other one?"

"Yeah there are." Sam answered, looking over at him. "There's also the oldest, I think his name is Christi..um..crusty…no..custy…I cant remember." Jess shot him a look of disapproval because apparent Sam doesn't even know his own sports captain and answered for him. "His name is Castiel."

"Oh right! There we go." Dean clapped his hands together because the third man's name finally clicked into place. "Lisa, why just Lucifer and Michael but not the good old Castiel?" He asked, even though he doesn't really give a crap about who they are because it's not like he's going to hang out with them any time soon. They're overrated.

"Um…Castiel is so much more worse than his brothers. For some reason everyone is swooning over him but he barely gives a shit about them. He just couldn't less about the girls' feelings after they hook he is a good flirt, at least I have heard. Getting all the panties dropping to the ground" Lisa answered thoughtfully. "He's kind of the person that doesn't date people for more than one night. The last person he actually dated was this ginger chick named Anna but I think he got bored of her…poor Anna."

"Wait-" Sam interpreted, arching an eyebrow "are you saying that he's not worth it?"

"Nonononono" Lisa protested quickly, a look of offense on her face but it's clear that Sam's words couldn't be even more to the point. "I just don't want to waste my time on that one okay, not like— "

"—he's gonna care about you?" Dean finished it for her and she pouted, _how_ adorable.

"Whatever." She said dismissively as the limo jerked to a stop in front of a big mansion what belongs to the Siaev's.

They could feel the thump of the bass vibrating in their chests as neon lights flashed through the second floor window. Jessica is already jumping in her seat: "What are you waiting for, let's go!"

review please thanks x story will be updated soon


	2. Chapter 2- Unexpected

Chapter 2- Unexpected

In goes Jessica, skipping up the staircase two by two, her rose-red dress billowing behind her. Sam looked back apologetically at Dean and Lisa as he was dragged away by Jessica. With his free hand he waved briefly and disappeared within the large iron doors of the mansion, soon lost in the crowd of guests.

Back in the limo, Dean sighed uneasily as his anxiety kicked in. He's never good with social situations, especially not when the other guests are all people that he's going to see again in the future. What if they don't like him? What if he's all left out in the corner? What if they get drunk and start yelling things at him?

" _Yo._ Pretty boy are you gonna go or not?" Lisa snapped her fingers in front of Dean's face.

"Oh um yes of course, let's go." Dean said absentmindedly, trying his best to smile. "ladies first."

"Wow aren't you a gentleman." Lisa chuckled as she hopped off the limo, followed by Dean who tipped the driver. "Loosen up best friend." She encouraged and hobbled in her 4 inch heels.

"Why the hell did I choose you out of everyone on the first day as a partner? What a mistake." He teased as they walked along the footpath in the yard.

"Why, too awesome for you to handle?"

"Hmph."

The Siaev's place is gigantic. The house itself has 3 floors, the first floor is twice as high as the others. Through the door he could see 3 chandeliers hanging on the ceiling, expensive looking art pieces hang symmetrically on either side of the room. The second floor is not as high but that's where the party is located. The big windows ignited red, green, white as a huge disco ball flashed in the middle of the room, the sound of people talking echoing through the otherwise quiet borough. The third floor, on the other hand seems much more peaceful. The walls were mainly glass, covered by the thin fabric of old fashioned blinds and there was no one in sight. Those houses though are much bigger on the inside than out so who knows what it's really like. Dean's always wanted a small house in the suburbs but with financial struggles and the terrible 8.875% tax of new york state it doesn't seem to be likely anytime soon. Outside, he caught a glimpse of a pool in the back. The water reflected the last rays of sunlight as the night settled in. _Gosh, they're so rich._ Dean thought bitterly as they made up the last couple of stairs, _rich and talented, no wonder they act like such spoiled brats._

"Ready?" Lisa looked up at him, pushing open the grand doors, revealing at least 5 dozen people just hanging out on the first floor. Music rocked every nerve in Dean's body as his eyes absorbed everything.

 _Fucking rich._ That's all he could think of. "Lisa, what's your plan?" he put a soft hand on her back, protecting from the rude people that are pushing around.

"Find them, of course." Lisa said without looking at him. He doesn't blame her for her lack of attention since it is overwhelming after all.

"Sam and Jess? They're probably mingle-ing with strangers right now." Dean guessed as he grabbed two nice cold beers from the counter and handed one to Lisa.

"Not them, silly." He could feel her rolling her eyes. "I meant _them_ by our lovely and gracious hosts."

Oh _._ Of _course._ How can he forget that Lisa has a massive crush on like 3 people? "Alright, anywhere you want to go you love sick little bird."

"Shut up."

Turns out "anywhere" is the second floor of the mansion. Walking up the marble stairs and a long corridor later they discovered themselves in a medium-sized ball room, filled with even more people. The music is louder than ever here as heads and arms waved to the beat.

"Who in the nine realms keep a ballroom in their house?" Dean thought out loud, successfully earning four dirty looks from the people around them.

"When this end up being my house you're going to beg to spend a night in here. Besides, this room is at least twice the size of that sad little apartment of yours." Lisa screamed over the music.

She's got a point. But before Dean could comment, Lisa's back went rigid as her gaze fixed on a group of people toward the back of the ball room, sitting on a fancy couch surrounded by short skirted girls. That's them, the Siaev brothers and Balthazar. To his discontent, Jo is sitting on Balthazar's legs. She looks stunning.

"Jackpot." Lisa whispered in his ear and little by little, they traveled through the sea of moving bodies and pushed through some drugged individuals, who muttered curses in annoyance. Taking a long pull from the beer, Dean's eyes finally adjusted to the darkness and blinding flashes of lights. There they were, the idols of NYU laughing and talking to each other. Lisa looked at them admiringly like a teenage girl meeting one direction, immature. Putting himself in her place, he tried his best to appreciate their "sexiness." Didn't really work though.

"Hey cutie." A voice sounded behind him as he turned around in surprise. Behind him was a girl with dark hair, cherry red lips. She has a gothic look to her, wearing a black mini-dress and like three chokers snaked on her neck. Dean does not recognize her face.

"Hello, do I know you?" He asked politely.

A look of surprise floated on her delicate face but it was soon replaced by a cool smile.

" _What?"_ Dean asked, confused with her reaction.

"Nah," she laughed it off, "I was just expecting a smirk and wink perhaps followed by a pick up line from a guy like you."

"I am very sorry that I have manners." He said sarcastically.

"Okay, cut the bullshit boy. I am Meg." She winked as she extended one hand toward him. "Sorry for my shitty introduction but you're quite an interesting guy."

Dean shook her hand solemnly and mustered a smile. "if you'd excuse me, my friend here is getting lonely without my accompany." _What a terrible excuse._

"Sure, I'll see you around." Meg chirped, turning around and her hair whipped against Dean's broad shoulders.

Directing his attention back to the brothers, they all got at least three girls floating around them. The first one on the couch is undoubtly Michael, his blonde hair combed to one side 1940-style and wearing a very fitting navy suit, completed by a yellow simpson's bow-tie. His blue grey eyes are glued to this chick who has one very toned arm around his neck and the other one holding a glass of champagne, which was shared between the two: gross. Very often the girl traced the shape of his thin lips or masculine jawline with manicured fingertips and Michael would smile at her half-heartedly then exchange a look with the guy next to him: Lucifer. Lucifer on the other hand seems to be in deep thought: like someone planning an important event. Actually, scratch that, he's like a CEO deciding what's for dinner when he only have a budget of $1000. Sometimes he laughs at something the girls in front of him said or stare appreciatively as they touch his face, shoulder, arms or wherever. If the girl is lucky, she can get a little peck and she'd light up like a lantern. Next to Lucifer is Balthazar-the-terrible-human-being, cradled in the arms of Jo, who smiles sweetly as she kisses his cheeks. Balthazar is rather informal, wearing his usual V-neck, a silver chain, very tight jeans, fedora and pointy toed boots. Dean doesn't want to look at him any longer, Balthazar makes him aggressive, aggressive is bad. But last of them is Castiel, the oldest and by far the most mature looking. Unlike the other three, he is standing up but that's probably because of the number of people around him. _What's even special about that guy_? Dean thought. But apparently his opinion is part of the minority, proven by the excessive number of girls huddled around. Castiel has an expression that is the definition of "deprecating" and "smug", it is as if the girls are merely his slaves working for him at no cost; they are probably willing to, though. Unlike any of his two brothers, his hair is pitch black, tussled and messy in a very fashionable way. His eyes are blue like the sky, reflecting the lights in the room which doesn't seem to be bothering him. Even the short stubble that grew around his dry looking lips made him look wild, untamed. So far the girls love it. But if Dean were to do the same to himself, he'd end up looking like a hobo. Everyone is created equal, huh? As for Castiel's outfit, he's wearing a black blazer outside a white dress shirt; top two buttons left open and a loose blue tie around his neck. If Dean's eyesight were reliable, then he'd think there's a gold locket tucked inside the shirt. Instead of his twin brother's serious and uptight look, this dude rocks the messy carefree style like no other. He is clearly loving all the attention he's getting, a dreamy smile curling on his lips as a girl with ombre hair brushed her hand across his crotch. She really had no shame, since many other girls are probably looking at their every move around their crush, Castiel.

Weaving between the four is this blonde girl, who seems to know them all to a intimate degree. She'd converse with one then another, I bet all the girls in this room are jealous of her, who is she anyway?

"Lisa, who is the girl in the turquoise gown?" He asked Lisa, who's now moved on to a glass of red wine.

"The blonde one? That's Lilith. Why? Are you trying to get into her pants?" She asked matter of factly.

"No!" Dean protested a little too quickly, making Lisa feel unusually smug since the two are always competing and trying to get on each other's nerves. "It's just that I've noticed her around them a lot. What's her relation to them, anyway?"

"Huh, what's up with your sudden interest in _my_ boys? They're mine, stop your interest at once, this is a warning."

"Simmer down, you can have your boys and I do _not_ have any interest in them—they're literal living definition of fuckboys." Dean said, switching his beer for a glass of red wine as well: makes him look classy. "Actually don't even bother answering my question."

Lisa shot a furious look at him but answered anyway. "Honestly I don't know either. But for all I know, I'd kill to be her."

Not surprising.

"you know what," Lisa said, finishing the last drop of wine in her glass (how does this girl drink so fast and still not totally intoxicated?) "I'm going to the dance floor, join me if you want to."

"Sure, give me a second." Dean answered and waved her off as she made her way to the cluster of sweaty humans grinding against each other. Directing his gaze back to the couch he realized: Balthazar and Castiel are gone. And Jo is in the corner on her phone, unaccompanied by her "lovely" boyfriend: this is his chance to at least talk to her after that awful break up that he never got over. He squeezed past the pack of sophomore girls and half tripped toward Jo, who did not notice Dean until he went up and greeted her.

"Hey, um, Jo." He said, green eyes focused on her beautiful face. She looks magnificent. Her blonde hair drapes down her shoulders in natural, soft curls and her soft pink lip nice and supple. Her eyes are like the night sky with infinite depth, he can stare into them and be lost within for days. He wish he could say just how beautiful she looks tonight and give her a little kiss that will make her smile mischievously like she always does. "You look nice."

Her brown eyes flickered to Dean and it took a moment for his face to click into place in her mind. He could feel the surprise appear onto her expression as her eyes widen and eyebrows shoot up. "Whoa…Dean!" She smiled, fingers still tapping a message on her phone even though she's not looking at the screen. "Thanks, so do you! I'm so glad that you can make it."

Yeah _right_. "Yeah, same. I'm guessing that all is going well with your life?"

"Yeah, yeah! Finals are over so that's a big relief. I'm probably going to take a week off to go on a cruise soon." She said awkwardly, eyes darting between Dean's face and the floorboard, clearly uncomfortable. It's really unfortunate because they've known each other since pre-K and they were always so close. They never would have thought that one-day things would become like this between the two, but fate has it. It's no longer their choice.

"That's, um, pretty cool. Honestly I'm planning to go hiking with Lisa Jessica and Sam. You can tag along if you want to, because we should make more memories." He smiled genuinely. Dean's trying _so_ hard to mend things and build bridges but it seems like every single time it all tumble down and he'll end up back on square one.

Before Jo could answer his invitation, a foreign voice sounded behind Dean's back and Jo's face melted into a cute look of obedience. "Welcome back baby." She said sweetly. Dean whipped around to see who in the world is disrupting his "master plan" to gain his friendship back but instead came nose to nose with someone he'd really love to avoid ever seeing: Balthazar.

"Oh look who it is…I'm sorry, I actually don't know your name." Balthazar said in a thick British accent, his face blank and emotionless. One of his expertly tweezed eyebrows rose a bit as his eyes finally settled and hardened on Dean's face.

"My name is D—"

"I don't care." He waved his hands as a signal for Dean to stop talking. "I don't give a shit about who you are, in case you're wondering." He laughed humorlessly. "Don't try to hook up with my girl there, because you don't want to face the consequences."

"I've known her for _all my life_ before you came and took her away!" Dean exclaimed.

"I can't begin to describe just how interested I am to your sad little life and your negative emotions." He said as another person walked up behind him: Castiel. Castiel has a very pensive look on his face, emotionless as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. It makes sense though, popular guy picking on a loser who just happens to be an ex of his girl, normal right? Dean was furious, but he was glued and frozen in one spot because of the anger bubbling inside him. Castiel was no one to tell his best friend to hush and move on, instead a smirk appeared on his face and believe me, it's not the sweet and helpful kind. As if there weren't enough tinder in the fire, Castiel poured 10 gallons of oil on top of it.

"Bro, why are you wasting your precious time talking to this worthless pathetic guy?" Castiel huffed and eyed Dean like a lost puppy begging for food. "You," He meant Dean. "Shoo, us adults don't have time for you." At the same time, Lilith joined him and he put an arm around her skinny shoulders.

"Casty…what is this dweeb doing here with you?" She said as if Dean doesn't exist. "I think Anna is here looking for you." She frowned.

"Anna can go screw herself, freaking clingy little girl. I ain't her mommy. Get her out of my house." He said coldly and off goes Lilith, like a good servant. But he wasn't don't with Dean just yet. "Are you just that desperate for a girlfriend that out of everyone here you choose to hit on my bro's girl? Isn't that a bit…low?" he paused, merciless. "I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if finding a girl isn't the easiest thing for you, unlike me; taken that your common sense is um, not on point." He sipped on his champagne and Balthazar nodded in agreement.

By this point, Dean is shaking in anger. It took so much self-control to not punch them all in the face. But as if things couldn't get worse, someone nudged him from behind and from the beer and mind blowing hatred, he lost his balance and he fell forward, tumbling right into Castiel. Time froze as the champagne along with Dean's red wine spluttered on Castiel's pristine white shirt, drenching it in a deep red purple. The two men fell as everyone around them turned to look, some even took out their phone to "capture the moment".

It took a few seconds for Dean to realize just when had happened, he quickly crawled up and checked if his suit is still intact. And it was. But Castiel's was not as lucky. His entire shirt front was a mess of wine color, dripping down his tie onto the floor. It's like he got shot. Slowly Castiel helped himself up, face blank or just because there're too many emotions to choose from that he ended up undecided. What ever is going to happen next…it's not going to be pretty.

 _What have I done_? _What have I done!_ It finally hit Dean. He just tried to hang out with one powerful guy's girlfriend and now totally screwed the most famous guy on campus's shirt. "I-I-I'm sorr—" before he could finish, he was pinned against the wall by Balthazar's elbow at his windpipe; He could barely breathe. He watched in horror as Balthazar's nose flared with anger and the terrible dullness on his chest becomes ever more painful. Castiel hooked a finger on a chain around his neck, followed it to what used to be a gold locket. But now it has turned black and colorless, ugly like a piece of scrap metal. For just a moment he saw the utter look of shock and terror wash over Castiel's face. The locket clearly has a lot of sentimental value…and he has ruined it.

"Let me talk to him." Castiel said way more calmly than Dean had expected, he waved his hand toward himself in a gesture that means "give him to me"

"Maybe I should just beat this bitch up." Balthazar suggested.

"No. I need to talk to him, _alone."_

And down goes Dean, wheezing as fresh air refilled his lungs. "Castiel…I am so sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Shut the _fuck_ up." Castiel said as he dragged Dean by the collar to a nearby empty room, slamming the door shut.

Castiel's stone hard blue eyes stared at Dean's green ones. It looks like both men are on the verge of crying. But crying and weakness is not Castiel's thing so he squared up and loomed over Dean's cowarding figure. In a deep voice he said, "Do you know what you have done?"

Dean stared at him for a second before breaking off his gaze, feeling too guilty to even look at the man in the eyes. "It was an accident someone pushed me I am so horribly sorry how can I repay you…" He blurted out, desperate for redemption.

"BULLSHIT!" Castiel roared as he lashed out, bitch slapping Dean on the left side of his face. He then crossed his arms as he watched Dean cover his face in pain, wincing at the sheer force of the collision.

"Please don't…" Dean begged between hiccups because he really doesn't know what to do anymore.

The lack of power of Dean made Castiel's heart giddy. But at the same time it stirred up something he'd buried deep within his mind in his childhood. He's been avoiding it for so long that he simply doesn't need a stupid little incident like this to unleash the monsters. "This locket," he seethed through clinched teeth as he dangled the now dull locket in front of dean's face "Is pure gold from the 17th century. And it's worth at least twenty thousand dollars. Do you understand?"

No response from dean.

" _Do you understand?!"_ Castiel repeated as he threw the locket down on the ground where it bounced off and opened, a ring falling outside.

"Yes." Dean whispered.

"I need _you_ to pay me back in two weeks. I don't give a shit about what you do, how you do it. But when the time is up, I need that money or you'll really regret ever being born." Castiel said in a deep monotone then bent down to pick up the locket and the ring. The moment he saw the content his expression softened as a wave of sadness hit him. There's a reason he kept that locket and its content so close to his heart. He could feel his tear glands betraying him as his eyes start to water. Turning his head he realized that Dean's been staring at his every move and how Dean's expression changed when he noticed the glazed eyes. Castiel is furious but at the moment, he's over taken by sadness. He jutted one hand toward the door. "Get out."

"Cas…"

"Get _OUT."_

 _-please review it means a lot to me!- will be updated within 2 days [ as of 12/15/15]_


	3. Chapter 3- Grey

_[[Sorry it took me a while to write this but i hope you guys like it]]_

 _Chapter 3- Grey_

 _Thirst._

"Hnng…" Dean grunted as his eyes stirred open. _It's bright outside._ Dean thought. His mind is fuzzy, eyes refusing to adjust to the bright light and when he does try to focus them, a terrible wave of pain washes over his brain and he falls back onto…whatever he's lying on.

 _How in the world did I get here?_

Eyes still closed, he supported his weight on his arms and attempted to sit up. Even with such a small movement, dizziness and nausea over took him as he slumped down again. _What the._

Knowing that he is in no shape to jump up and start breakdancing or just simply getting a glass of water, Dean decided to just stay put and let the sleep shake off a bit. But something is really vexing him, how did he get here (where is here?) and what happened. With quite an extensive list of discomforts at hand, the art of thinking doesn't seem to be a good idea at the moment either. He took deep breaths as he tried to not focus on anything at all. But something just bugs him…ah…like how bright the sunshine is seeping through the window.

 _NO!_ He screamed in his head as his body twitched. _I must be turning into a vampire! That explains the sensitivity to light! Nonononono._

 _But wait…_

 _Oh what the hell Dean, suck it up!_ He told himself as he covered his eyes with his bare forearms, blocking out the light; better. _Too much twilight shit, too little logic._

Ten minutes later Dean found himself sitting up right to what, to his surprise, a queen bed in what appears to be a motel room. His conditions have somewhat improved nevertheless still annoying. By now he figured that he is incredibly hangover from whatever happened last night, it's worse than he thought it'd be. He chuckled. There's always a price to drinking too much even though it felt like the right thing at the moment. But _why? What was his warrant for drinking to such a state?_ Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly) he's forgotten most of the events leading up to him waking in this strange bed, it's all bits and pieces; and when he tries to put them together his head started to feel as if it's going to explode.

"Damn…" he muttered under his breath and something beneath him crackled. Reaching down, his fingers slid against a piece of crumbled paper. Smoothing it out, Dean and his weak mind slowly deciphered the messy scribbles: 'Dear Dean, I hope your liver is holding up. You were too drunk to make it home so I just put you in this motel. Don't worry, I already paid for it. Hope you feel better, call me if you need anything. Ellen.'

Well that certainly explains the hangover.

Standing up on wobbly legs, Dean finally realized that he is undressed, with nothing but a boxer on. Heat crawled up his cheeks as he imagined poor Ellen having to get a 200-pound man out of his suit without loosing her mind. He's thankful though, beats having a wrinkled and smelly suit.

In the bathroom he took a long pull from the tap, the feel of water in his throat quenched the terrible thirst and he felt much improved. Thoroughly washing his face in icy cold water, his fingers felt something weird on his face, strangely out of place. Water still dripping down his nose and his chin he whipped his head up and froze when he saw his reflection in the mirror. "What the actual…"

It took him a moment to recognize his very own face. His entire left cheekbone is severely bruised, color ranging from deep purple to inky green. As if that is not enough, there is a swollen lump now resting beneath his eye, sealing the deal. Gently pressing down onto it a dull pain spread through his face. "Mother of God…" he whimpered. Suddenly, it all came to him, like a great wall tumbling down. Every single detail of last night carved its way onto his brain, the party … the fight … the accident... " _Shit."_

* * *

LAST NIGHT

As Dean scurried off, Castiel suddenly felt very light headed, like a reverse adrenaline rush. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes to overcome his own shock. He knew it was valuable and maybe it was really a better choice to lock it away in the safety of a bank. Well, too late.

 _That asshat._ He thought with his jaws clenched, leaning against the wall with his head up, eyes closed. _Now he is so fucking going to pay for what he's done. I am Castiel Siaev, not a crappy, insignificant cockroach hiding in the cracks of the campus. You mess with me, you mess with all of the school._

Glancing briefly at his watch he realized it's already 10pm. By this point he doesn't feel like partying anymore. He now has a bunch of uncalled for shit to deal with, mainly psychologically but it isn't going to do him much good with 200 people in his house. So he pushed himself away from the cold walls in this empty, windowless room and opened the doors. The terrible stench of sweat and alcohol hit his senses as he raised his hand to cover his nose. Looking around he spotted the culprits, two very drunk students messily making out next to the door. The guy slid his hand up the girl's mini skirts and they grinded against each other. _Gross._ As if he hasn't had enough, he's going to end up having 10 people in an empty guest room having an orgy. That's why sexually transmitted diseases spread so quick in New York. Tsk Tsk. Glaring, Castiel grabbed hold of the guys collar and jerked him backwards, ungluing him from the girl who yelped then covered her exposed breasts. The guy's face is a mess, jesus Christ, does he even have any dignity? The girl's lipstick was smeared across his face like he's bleeding from a terrible accident. And the girl? Not much better. If Castiel were a director he could have shot kungfu panda 3 with no make up artist involved. Sorry—only that Po's going to look like he has a very bad case of herpes on his lips because from all the kissing her once red lipstick is now face paint. _Stupid asses._

"Hey you fucking piece of shit." Castiel said as he threw the guy backwards and sent him crashing down on the floorboard, grunting in dismay. Seeing her lover hurting, the girl scowled and took a step toward Castiel, as _if_ she is even sober enough to tell where he's actually standing.

" _Dude,_ what's your problem?" The guy said, crawling up, dusting off his shirt.

" _You're_ my problem," Castiel said, jabbing a finger dangerously close to the guy's eyes.

The guy glared at Castiel as he stood up on wobbly legs, mostly supporting himself on the girl. He squared up, jaw clenching and shoulders tense in anticipation for a full on fight. He must have thought he looked buff and heroic but in reality he looks like a slouching slug too drunk to even lift his head. If a 3 year old were to poke him on the leg he'd probably be tumbling down the stairs to his death. As much as Castiel would like to watch him tumbling to his death, he decided that the guy is simply not worth his time.

"Get out of my house, you drunkard." Castiel laughed coldly and cracked his knuckles, which have been bothering him since he slapped the bitch back there in the room. Without taking another look, he stormed past them and reentered the ball room.

Just like he's expected, the "wonderful aroma" got ever stronger. People dancing against each other, touching, kissing…you name it. He could feel the heat radiating from every single human body in there, and he's being driven insane. Feeling down his dress shirt he realized just how ruined it's became. Patches of purple red decorated the once dashing white material and scent of wine is really starting to get on his nerves, just like everything else. _Why not._ He thought as he slid his blazer off his shoulders, heads turned all around him. Girls drunk and sober alike became all intrigued as their eyes glued onto his face, his body, him. Their fingers stroked along their lips as their mouths dried with lust. Castiel is the sex god of the school, the senior that everyone admired and obsessed with. Slowly, traveling through the parting crowd he unbuttoned his shirt's buttons one by one, until finally, he took it off then slang it across his shoulder. Now he's wearing a tight grey t-shirt that fits his body flawlessly, hanging around his neck an untied blue tie.

"Why don't you take that shirt off too, daddy?" he heard someone say and girls giggled. A smirk floated onto his face but his blue eyes remained cool and distant as he lifted his shirt up a little bit, flashing the crowd that's perpetually gathered around him. Immediately he felt someone's sweaty hand caress the back of his neck then down his back and stopping on his ass. Turning round, he saw a girl he did not recognize and harshly slapped her hand off. "Don't touch me, you slut. Go blow those nasty truck drivers like your mom did."

People covered their mouths and started laughing as the girl, humiliated, turned around and buried her face in her hands, probably crying. The others continued to follow him and admiring his actions, some even pulled out their phone to take snapchats of the muscles rippling on his back as he walked. He felt proud, powerful. That little encounter with the bitch earlier almost killed his mood but now he is slowly regaining it back. Other people feel happy by binge watching their favorite shows or eating. But he feels powerful when he crushes people beneath his feet like ants. People sometimes are so shallow that with the proper foundation built up by the player, they can be controlled like little chess pieces of their game. At the moment, he's quite enjoying being the all mighty player who controls everything around him.

"Hey, you," he gestured toward an asian girl next to him, she froze as her face turned bright red.

"M-me?" she pointed at herself, not sure if she's heard right.

"Yeah you lame chick. Get me a beer." He ordered.

"Of course—" She skipped off as other girls looked at her in awe, as if to say 'why not me ugh that lucky bitch.'

Smugly he walked back to where the couch was stationed, joining his brothers that all seem to be very well accompanied by their ladies. _Hmm, new girl._ He thought as he glanced toward his brother Michael, who is talking to a girl he's not quite familiar with: dark hair, red dress, long legs. Yeah, nothing surprising about that.

"I see you got a new toy, huh?" Castiel said in a taunting manner as he took a pull from his beer, which he'd received from the girl a moment earlier.

Turning around mid-laugh, one corner of Michael's mouth tilted up in a mischievous smile and he pointed at the girl, his blue eyes sparkling. "Her? Yeah man, meet Lisa. She's hilarious!"

The girl finally direct her attention to Castiel, they exchanged nods of acknowledgement. Funny, she didn't have that swooning look on her face like when the other girls look at him but he is not the kind of person to bicker with his brother, especially when girls much hotter than her are willing to throw themselves at him. "Mike, I've been gone for like 10 minutes, how many girls have you raced through, during that time huh?"

"Oh brother, you have no idea." He winked then looked at Lisa, who didn't seem all that content. Castiel's words have made his point and he can't wait to see this Lisa girl run away heart broken. "Oh and, about those 10 minutes, how did it go with that jerk?"

Castiel stifled a laugh and sat on the end of the couch, leaning his head back against the soft material. Michael's question caught Lucifer and Balthazar's attentions as well as they sat up and looked at him excitingly for juicy descriptions for whatever went down.

"I sure hope you beat him up. To be honest, I was about to do it myself." Balthazar remarked and Castiel shot him a look of agreement.

"How's your precious locket though, you've had it since forever." Lucifer added, eyeing the bulge created by the locket on the front of his shirt. "I bet it's important."

"It _is_." Castiel snapped, feeling anger rising within him again. "I am still pissed as hell for what the guy did. My designer dress shirt all ruined, locket destroyed, I swear I am not done with him." He said bitterly.

"Anyways, I kinda slapped him and kicked his ass. I didn't even need to do much, he was so afraid…Oh, and you should have seen the look on his face... Other than that, he's been warned to pay me back within two weeks or he's really going to regret it all. "

"Savage. But why didn't you beat him up on the spot? Would have probably made you feel better." Lucifer added, combing his hand through his ginger hair.

 _Because I was too caught up with my emotions._ "I need him afraid for tonight, I'll deal with him later of course. Why use the fun all at once when it can last longer?"

"Facts man…do you even remember what he look like?" Michael raised an eyebrow. It's a fair point though.

"Green eyes? Sandy hair?" Castiel laughed because he really doesn't remember the man much except how green his eyes looked as they stared at him in fear. "Kind of tall?" Something about his description caught Lisa's attention.

" _Very_ helpful." Balthazar said sarcastically, "I remember he said his name was something along the lines of Dean. Actually I am quite sure it's Dean. "

With that, the dark headed girl next to Michael turned and started walking back toward the sea of people, pulling out her phone and began dialing a number.

"Yeah, Dean or not, he's in deep shit." Castiel shrugged and got up. "Gonna go for a smoke, be right back."

Lisa dialed Dean's phone furiously as she disappeared into the crowd. Voicemail. "Pick up you fucking jerk." She chastised angrily as again and again she was directed to voicemail. Hopeless, she called Sam in hope that Dean is with them instead and not in deep trouble after getting slapped by that Siaev fuck boy.

"Sam? _Sam!"_ She screamed into the phone over the music with one hand covering her ear. Somehow she found the way out of the ball room and slipped into the nearest empty closet: peaceful.

"Lisa, why are you calling me." Sam said, clearly annoyed.

"Please tell me that Dean is with you?"

"Ah…no? He was with you since the very beginning. He isn't a kid anymore, not going to get lost, no worries."

"Where are you and Lisa?" She ignored Sam's words.

"just leaving to her apartment. What's wrong?" _finally catching my drift._

"Apparently Dean did some terrible shit and got beaten up by Castiel!"

"Huh? Lisa, we've known Dean enough to know that he isn't the type to do things like this. Besides, It's probably a different Dean since it isn't really that unique of a name."

"Then where the hell can he be? Not answer his phone." She said, worried.

There was a long silent on the other end of the phone, Sam is probably thinking of the possibilities. "Maybe he got lucky and went off with a guy or a girl."

"A guy?"

"Yes?"

"You think he might be bi?" That's new, it hadn't occurred to her yet but now thinking about it, it explains things.

"No—I mean, I don't know but it's 2015 people can be a lot of different sexual orientations, you never know."

"Yeah right, sorry. Not the point—I am still kind of worried that he might be in some sort of trouble, okay? Try calling him for me?"

"Sure thing, laters." Sam said and hanged up the phone. But a millisecond before their call disconnected, she heard the screeching of car tires in the distance and a loud crash. It wasn't Sam's car but someone, whoever it is, is probably in trouble.

* * *

Dean was not okay, his face still stung from the slap as he scooted onto the back of a taxi cab, slamming the door shut and leaving the glowing mansion behind him. The more distance the better.

Before he knew it, he found himself in a familiar part of Brooklyn, a dull neon light flickering before his eyes. He'd always came here has a teenager even though he was underage. You aren't supposed to enter bars if you're under 21 but that rule doesn't apply at this bar, at least not at him. He remember the days when he'd hang out in the back room with Jo, daring each other to try random alcoholic drinks. They burnt his throat but it was never to the point to make him drunk.

For the hundredth time, he pushed open the wooden doors of the bar as a familiar ding of the bell echoed through the night. This bar is never crowded, only the regulars come and go to enjoy a few drinks and a nice chat. Today however, it's empty except the owner.

"Oh look! What a special guest!" The woman stood up and greeted Dean in a warming hug.

"Hey Ellen, how's it going?" Dean said grimly, trying hard to bring a smile onto his face.

"All good so far, neighbors had some rat problems but as far as I know, rats don't drink liquor." She winked. "What's wrong, something bugging you?"

"Yeah…" He sighed and sat on one of the high stools next to the counter. "Quite a lot of things are bugging me, which drink do you suggest?" He knows if he ever needed someone to talk to, Ellen is the one to go to. She's like his family, there's nothing he's afraid to share with her, knowing she will not judge and will offer whatever help she can.

"I'm thinking maybe that Hennessey Whisky." She said as she poured three shots of it and laid them all in front of Dean. "On me. Now speak."

Dean looked at her wearily as he picked up the first one and downed it. Feeling a nice burn down his throat all the way to his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut in response.

"Whoa, slow down tiger." She said as she refilled the glass.

"Yeah, okay…" Dean looked at her gratefully and started narrating everything that's just happened. 6 drinks and a lot of pauses later, he finished his story and they sat in silence for a while, accompanied only by the soft jazz music playing in the back ground.

"So how do you reckon you get the money?" She said, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder."

"I don't know…" he said honestly, elbows on the bar and his head clutched in his hands. "I am sorry but I really don't know…"

"I think you should talk to him."

"What?! Are you nuts? The last person I want to talk to is him." The light all of a sudden seemed so much blurrier, like a think fog was clouding up his vision.

"Hear me out, from what you told me, it seems that his rage all sprang from the locket and not because he hates you."

"Well, he hates me now."

" _Sure_ , he's a dick but I'm telling ya, I've dealt with their family long long ago, their father, Chuck. Apparently Chuck disappeared when the kids were very young, so they had to grow up on their own: lots of money and power but little knowledge on what to do with it. Of course, that had an impact on who they've grown to be."

"How does this have to do with anything?" Dean complained, downing another glass of whiskey.

"It's just that, everything has a back story. People don't just be bad or good for no reason. There has to be a push factor that brings someone to that point. People are often the weakest when they're the strongest."

"Thanks Ellen but that's some deep shit that my brain can't comprehend."

"No, listen to me. The Siaevs live on the top of a castle that's like the game jenga. No matter how high up they might be, if you know which block to push, you can send it all tumbling down. Those blocks were all built on their own struggles, bad memories and childhood nightmares. It's who they truly are…they're just hiding it within the other blocks to create the illusion that they're all mighty." Ellen said thoughtfully.

"I see your point. So what now?" He said as the world began to spin

"Talk to him – " But before she could finish, Dean's already passed out and the next thing he knew, he woke up in that motel room.

* * *

NOW

Carefully dabbing his face clean of water, he stumbled back to the bed and finally found his phone still tucked within his dress pants.

(19) missed calls from Lisa B

(22) missed calls from Sammy

 _"_ They must have been worried out of their minds…" He said guiltily. But before he could fill them in on what happened…or not talking about it at all and just say he ran into a pole because he was too drunk, he has to make a quick call before he looses the courage to. Of course, who is he kidding, why in the world would he know Castiel Siaev's phone number? Time to go with plan B.

"DEAN?!" Sam's voice screamed through his phone as Dean violently jerked his head back, cowarding from the loud sound. "Where the _heck_ are you?"

"I'm uh…" He paused to look at the flyer next to the nightstand, "Motel 8 somewhere in Brooklyn. I'm alive."

"Wha—Who did you spend the night with?" Sam asked, now dramatically calmer.

Dean can't believe that's the second question his dear little brother chose to ask. "No one? Why would you think that? Okay, point is, I need your help."

"Because you literally live 20 minutes away and need I say, you're in a freaking _motel_. And everything points to you having a once night stand; Tell me, who was it?"

"Shut up Sam." Dean rolled his eyes, something about Sam can always seem to lighten the mood up…but wait, he's got more important business in hand. "I need you to hack or do whatever and get me a Siaev's number."

Silence—"Dean, are you okay…"

"I'll explain later, please just do me this favor?" he begged and he could almost hear Sam sigh and give in.

"Which Siaev?"

"Eldest, Castiel."

More silence—"Dean." Breathing, "tell me you haven't slept with him?"

 _"_ _WHAT?!"_ Dean blurted out, so angry and confused at the same time. "WHY in the fucking _world_ would you even think that?!"

"Well, if you were to go on social media…you'd see um, a picture, of you on top of um, Castiel…on the floor…yeah."

Dean buried his face within his hands at a total loss of words. "No. Just, no. can you just…do it and disappear."

Ten minutes and a lot of facepalming later, Dean finally got Castiel's number. It's not like he's going to hit him up and ask for a drink or a peaceful talk by the sea, he just wants to sort everything out, apologize and hope Castiel will let him repay with lets say…friendship? Yeah, bunch of bullshit but it's better than trying to earn so much money in so little time.

 _Ring ring._ No answer.

Maybe he's drunk or being sexed up by 5 girls right now, bit busy, rich people lives huh.

Finally, on the fourth try someone picked up the phone, a woman.

"Um, hello?" Dean asked through the phone, expecting the woman to say something like 'Castiel is too busy having sex please call again later.' But machines beeping in the back ground told him otherwise.

"Hello this is Bellevue Hospital Center the patient is currently in the middle of surgery, may I ask who this is? I may be able to answer some questions."

Surgery? Bellevue hospital? "I am uh…a friend. W-what's going on?"

"Mr. Siaev was unfortunately hit in a car crash last night around 11:30 pm, he is currently stable but he does have several broken ribs and a bruised lung."

Dean hang up.

 _What? Car crash, 11:30…what if it was all his fault?_

 _please review x i want to know what you all think 3_


End file.
